


Glasses

by CMDAK



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-10 12:02:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4391117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CMDAK/pseuds/CMDAK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>MI6’s security was seriously lacking if someone dressed in a bright red t-shirt which was matched with bright red sneakers and who also had a huge camera in his hands managed to slip past the front desk and get so deep within the building. But what actually surprised him was that it seemed Q’s security system was also failing since no alarms were going off despite the fact that the man was so close to his beloved domain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glasses

**Author's Note:**

> So I know that what Q is wearing in the movie is really expensive. But, for the sake of this story, they're really good imitations. 
> 
> As usual, please excuse any and all mistakes. 
> 
> Enjoy~

MI6’s security was seriously lacking if someone dressed in a bright red t-shirt which was matched with bright red sneakers and who also had a huge camera in his hands managed to slip past the front desk and get so deep within the building. But what actually surprised him was that it seemed Q’s security system was also failing since no alarms were going off despite the fact that the man was so close to his beloved domain.

 

But, if he personally delivered this trespasser to Q and find a way to not rub in his face that his precious surveillance systems were not as good as he claimed them to be, there might be a possibility of the young Quartermaster will actually thank him for once and forgive him for the whole losing an entire car and five personalized weapons in a single mission incident.

 

Maybe he’d even get invited to dinner since he had heard that was the way the young Quartermaster usually apologized to his minions if he wronged them in any major way - they were actually lunches and in cases of extreme minion overworking and going off on them for a minor mistake, an extra day off, but James was confident in himself that he’d convince Q to have dinner with him as well as get him to spend the night and morning after in bed with him.

 

If he would have had a third arm, he’d pat himself on the back for this brilliant plan as he pushed his shoulder in the intruder’s back, slamming him into the wall as hard as he could. He heard a crack that came from the camera accompany a painful groan, but he still grabbed its strap and pulled it back, hitting him with it in the face twice before finally pulling it over his head and throwing it on the ground, stomping on it until the less broke and a few buttons jumped off.

 

“I should congratulate you for getting this– Q?” His blood froze in his veins and his heart stopped beating when he pulled the man back to look at his face and noticed that he was actually beating his Quartermaster. The same Quartermaster he had a growing interest in andfor whose attention and affection he was battling other MI6 employees.

 

Because, of course, every double oh agent fell for the young man, not just for the fact that he looked like a wingless fae right out of one of Shakespeare’s plays.Actually, James had been the only agent who met had met the Quartermaster before working with him in the field and he rubbed that in his fellow agents’ faces every chance he got.

 

Of course, everyone pointed out that they didn’t have the stigma of sleeping-with-everything-that-had-a-pulse following them around and they fell for his voice and brains before seeing how he looked like. Not that James felt an instantly sexual attraction to him. He fell for him while being teased and mocked over the coms and only really saw him when he came to Skyfall with the medical team, pulling on a brave face despite the slight tremor in his hands.

 

And he was pretty sure all of his minions suffered from the same case of Q-crush, even if they were married or not. They looked at him as if he was a God among mortals and James wouldn’t be all that surprised if he found out they all had secret altars dedicated to him.

 

A weak hit against his chest derailed his train of thoughts and James realized that Q was trying to get him to let go, but he was afraid that the willowy man would fall on the ground if he actually did that – not to mention that he enjoyed the sort of hug they were in. “007, let go of me this instant,” Q ordered through clenched teeth, blood freely flowing from both his nose and his lips and still managing to sound threatening. “I will not repeat myself, agent.” At least his glasses were only a little bit cracked.

 

The hallway was suddenly full of people, both minions who were all pointing strange, half-finished devices at him and security guards who were not quite so eager to take on a senior double oh agent. His respect for the minions grew even more in that second, watching them slowly getting closer to him as if they were trainers in a circus and he was the lion that went insane and attacked its trainer.

 

And that was exactly what it looked like, what with him holding on tightly to a bleeding Quartermaster who had taken to elbowing him repeatedly in the exact opposite place his wound was, his foot still resting in what was left of the man’s expensive camera.

 

“I thought you were an intruder.” This time Q elbowed him where he was wounded and James took a few steps backwards, the minions forming a protective barrier between their beloved overlord and the double oh agent. “If I had known it was you, I wouldn’t–”

 

“We have a perfectly good security system, agent.” Q’s voice sounded funny due to the fact that some of the minions were sticking little balls of cotton up his nose, trying to get him to move towards medical. But Q wasn’t done chewing on the agent, ignoring the pain he felt. “Not to mention you do not get in here without passing through a few biometric systems. That would be those strange little iPads glued to the wall which you have to poke and glue your face to, agent.”

 

James tried to get closer to the Quartermaster and there were some minions who actually hissed at him, one of the security guards turning around and running in the direction of M’s office. “Q, I’ll personally buy you a whip, tie myself to a post and let you whip me as many times if you want if you just go to Medical right now.”

 

“You would like that, wouldn’t you? Just how bad are your eyes, you horrible old man? I’ll have you using canes in your next mission.” Q promised him while his minions finally managed to get him to move, tilting his head back and even attempting to pick him up and carry him in their arms. “He broke my nose and lips, not my legs. I can walk on my own. But please, someone try to recover every bit of my camera.”

 

“I’ll do that for you,” James offered, easily pushing the minion away that was trying to block his path, flinching when he heard something cracking under his foot. Okay, he was clearly making everything worse. “I’ll just go to M’s office without touching anything else then,” he muttered, carefully jumping around the camera pieces and disappearing down the hall.

 

***

 

Q had corroborated James’ story and even pulled up the security fee from the hallway to show M, Bill Tanner, all of HR and the MI6 psychiatrist who were all present in the room to decide what sort of punishment they needed to apply to the agent.

 

The Quartermaster even went on to assure everyone that he had no ill feelings towards the agent and despite his earlier threat in the hallway, he would continue to provide him with perfectly working gadgets –“Which agent Bond will destroy with as much ease as he did my camera” – and guide him to the best of his abilities – “Though I had a deaf dog once who did a better job at following my orders than agent Bond.”

 

The cold glares Q sent in his direction and the voice dripping with acid as he indirectly complained about how horrible of an agent James was, were sort of good news. It meant that the man wasn’t scared of him and that he still had a chance to fix everything. Actually, the young man seemed more annoyed about his camera being broken than his nose, but in all honesty, James preferred it like that.

 

In the end, all James had to do was go to an optometrist and get a pair of glasses that he was supposed to wear while on MI6 premises despite the fact that everyone present there knew that he didn’t actually need them.

 

M pointed out that it was extremely superficial and James himself agreed to that, but Q said he saw no need for a harsher punishment. “007 simply did the only thing he knows how to do best: attack first, destroy the piece of technology that seems to threaten his ancient being by simply existing near him and ask questions later.”

 

“At least make me buy you dinner or something, Quartermaster,” James spoke up, smile instantly dying on his lips when he saw how _offended_ the young man looked – everyone else in the room coughed awkwardly and looked away.

 

“I will cease punishing you with my presence right now, agent.” He pushed the replacement glasses Medical had provided for him with a bit too much strength and he almost managed to fully mask his flinch. “Now if you’ll all excuse me, I shall like to spend the rest of my day off somewhere that won’t land me with any broken things.”

 

James was starting to question his own usefulness as a spy, suddenly amazed that he had successfully finished all the honey pot missions he had been tasked with. How was it that he kept making things worse when it came to the young man? He was only joking, trying to get Q to demand to be taken to the most expensive restaurant in London or demand to be taken on an island where James would get to worship him as a god.

 

A sack over his head brought him out of his daydreaming, Eve looking like she wanted to tear him into little bits and feed a pack of hungry wolves. “You are a bloody moron, Bond. I hope you at least plan on buying him a new camera.” Oh, yeah, of course. Why didn’t it cross his mind to replace that?

 

She clicked her tongue and grabbed his arm, guiding him out of the room. “Poor boy starved and overworked himself for three months to buy that thing and you destroy it even before he took a real picture with it.”

 

He thought the man had gotten thinner and paler, but every time he tried to ask Q about it, the man huffed and ordered him out of his department. “I thought he was simply partying too much before work and forgetting to eat because he’s always tinkering on this or that.” James said slowly and Eve’s face seemed to ask how it was that _he_ was their top agent.

 

“Well, those weren’t the reasons,” She said slowly, taking out her phone to show the man what camera he was supposed to replace.

 

The camera was expensive, but James was sure that a Quartermaster wouldn’t have to hold back on food or anything else to afford it. Although, now that he thought about it, Q almost never went out with them and when he did, he bought the cheapest beer possible or only drank a glass of water with a slice of lemon in it.

 

His clothes were also cheap, though they looked fancy and the only really expensive thing he saw him wear was that horrible cardigan during their first mission together. Even the suit he had on under that duffle coat was an imitation – a good one, but still an imitation.

 

The laptop he carried around was part of the old generation that MI6 used and James realized that the only reason that ancient brick still worked and was so fast was because Q must be constantly tinkering with it, prolonging his life. He didn’t really get a good look at the watch, but since it didn’t catch his eye, it must have been something basic and he almost always saw the young man walking to the building from the direction of the tube.

 

This was really starting to bother him. Q was acting as if he was a step away from selling his kidneys to look decent at work. “Just how little are we paying him?” He asked, frowning when Eve avoided looking in his eyes. “M is aware that he’ll defect if someone offers him a bigger sum, right?”The slap he got really surprised him and he stared at the woman for a few good seconds before the stinging in his cheek registered with his brain.

 

“Q would never do that! He cares too much for… Never mind. The Quartermaster’s financial status is not something we should discuss in this hallway or anywhere else, for that matter,” she added quickly when she saw how the agent’s eyes light up. “Just buy him the bloody camera, apologize and don’t you ever break anything that he owns or _I_ will drive your precious Aston Martin in the Thames with you in the bloody trunk.”

 

Eve had raised her voice for her threat and everybody in the hallway stopped and turned to glare at him, their eyes accusing. He didn’t need to read their minds to know that everybody had labelled him as the ungrateful and unworthy twat of an agent who beat up the young Quartermaster who had put his job on the line at least ten times since they met.

 

He went straight to the first shot that specialized in cameras and probably ended up putting the shopkeeper’s kids through an American college with how much stuff he bought. But it still didn’t feel like it was enough. He needed to get Q more things. That ended up being a lot harder than he thought, the agent realizing that he knew almost nothing about the man he fancied.

 

Q liked tea – or he assumed he liked tea because of that one line in the museum. Maybe he liked coffee? No, he never smelled like coffee. He liked Chinese – or maybe Tanner liked that since he was the one who always ordered extra, never Q. He liked cardigans? That had to be a sure thing since he owned an expensive one. And who would waste that much money on something so nerdy looking if they didn’t have an actual passion for them.

 

What else? Museums, he had to like those since he actually sounded like he knew what he was talking about in front of that bloody picture. Also, he was the Quartermaster, so he had to like technology. What kind of a phone did he have? Was he part of that silly little war between brands? Did he like to play games? What console would he use? Or did he hate technology because he worked so much with it? And would everyone stop abusing their bloody car horns so he could properly focus on his huge dilemma?

 

“Hey! Aston Martin, move it already! We’re sick of looking at the back of your fancy car and some of us have to get to work!” Someone shouted between honks and James realized that the light had indeed turned green.

 

He stopped by a few more stores, getting Q some clothes and teas and by the time he got home, he was sure he was going to sleep unturned. But sleep refused to come to grace him with his presence so he ended up sitting in front of his computer, trying to access Q’s personal files.

 

And, as usual, his plan sounded easier than it actually was. He didn’t have a high enough clearance to access them and although he knew a little bit about hacking due to Q walking him through three or four missions in which he had to do that on computers that were completely cut off from the internet, he still couldn’t get to Q’s personal information.

 

In his defence, the computers he hacked didn’t have a security protocol created by a young genius with green eyes and wild hair that tended to appear in some of James’ more pleasant dreams, while the MI6 servers did.Still, he was surprised when the computer shut down on its own and he flinched when his phone started buzzing, announcing the arrival of a new text message.

 

_If you don’t stop whatever you are doing this instant and let me go to sleep, I will cause every device around you to short-circuit. And that includes you precious car. Remember, I am the one who upgraded it; I can easily turn it into your worst enemy._

 

If he continued to anger Q, he would end up being equipped by a robot and assigned to a team of random boffins to guide him during his missions.

 

Morning came and the agent arrived in Q branch even before the morning shift, the tired boffins turning around to glare at him, eyes narrowing with each step that carried him closer to their beloved overlord’s office. The large box James carried in his arms that caused him to bump into a few desks made them even more jumpy, clearly worried that he’d break something.

 

“I won’t touch anything in there. I’ll sit in the middle of the office and wait for the Quartermaster to come, I promise.” He tried to charm them with his best smile, but they all just continued to stare at him with hatred, the woman patting something that looked innocent enough for James to know it brought on horrible pain on however it was used on.

 

He didn’t know why he was surprised to see the broken camera spread on Q’s desk, some parts put under a powerful light to dry. The lens, however, was completely cracked and James wasn’t sure that even Q would be able to put back together the two small circuit boards that somehow looked worse than the lens.

 

“And today had such a nice start,” Q’s disappointed voice came from the door, James turning around to be greeted with a sour and annoyed face. “You’re either a sadist and wish to punish yourself with my presence or you’re here to nag me about giving you access to my file. The answer to that is ‘no’, by the way. And I don’t care if you threaten to lose all the gadgets I give you in your future missions since I am not the one who needs them to come back home not in a casket.”

 

The man looked horrible, big bags under his eyes, skin almost as white as his shirt, a slight tremor in his hands that might be caused to how little he was sleeping – and James wanted to kick himself for trying to open his personal file at that ungodly hour, undoubtedly waking him up.

 

His complexion alongside the unnatural swollen nose and puffy upper lip made everything even worse and when Q flinched after leaning back against his chair, James realized that he had also given him a pretty horrible bruise where his shoulder came in contact with his back.

 

“I actually came here to give you this.” He held up the large box, Q tilting his head to the side in a very adorably confused and curious manner. “I know you’re working to fix the old one and I have no doubt that you can do it,” he lied through his teeth and Q’s narrowed eyes made it clear that he saw right through that, “but since I was the one who broke it in the first place, I should be the one to replace it.”

 

He carefully put the box down in front of Q and took a step back, a huge smile appearing on his face when he saw the man’s green eyes fill with joy at the sight of the new camera. The care he had when turning it in his hands made James want to pull him in a hug and assure him that he’d buy him a new one no matter how many times they broke. But he held back.

 

“I’ll accept the camera,” Q started, peeking in the box again before pushing it with his elbow towards the agent, “but not anything else that’s in here.”

 

“You bled over your shirt and pants yesterday, so I had to replace those as well even if the shirt was red. And if you don’t accept the other camera related things, I’d have to throw them since I don’t own one and I’ve been informed that the shop won’t do refunds.”

 

Q scoffed, but nodded and muttered his thanks, stuffing the box under his desk and James left the office with a satisfied smile. The next thing he sent to the Q branch was lunch for everyone, Eve helping him pick out Q’s favourite restaurant – which happened to be the exact same Chinese restaurant Tanner ordered extra food.

 

Then tea and sweets and by the end of the day, when he waltzed back in the branch to offer Q a ride home, the glares he got from the boffins were less harsh. Q, however, looked annoyed and anything but pleased.

 

“Should I start reading the messages you and 006 exchange despite the fact that neither of you are allowed to do that because he’s in a deep undercover mission in Siberia?” Q hissed, narrowing his eyes.

 

James was sure that Q was the reason why he could communicate with his best friend and the two of them had even included little greetings in their messages because they were sure the Quartermaster was reading them. “In all honesty, we already thought you did that. So many wasted jokes... But why do you ask?”

 

“Because it feels like you’re up to something and I suspect you made a bet about bedding me before he returns or such horrible thing.”

 

If he actually ever heard someone do that, he’d hunt them down and beat them up. “I’m just trying to apologize and nothing more.” He jiggled his keys in front of Q, smiling. “I am about to pick them up right now, so can I also give you a ride home after you make sure that I actually get them?”

 

“No. M won’t let you into the building without them and I prefer to take the tube. There are less annoying people on it than in your car.”

 

He came prepared to be refused, so he had the perfect comeback. “You have a giant, heavy box with you and your face is already bruised so some people might decide that you are the perfect victim to rob. Or someone might knock the box out of your hands by accident and the new camera might break, despite the shirts that are put around it.”

 

Q might think of getting a cab, but if James’ suspicions were right, he didn’t have the money for it. A ride from MI6 was also out of the question due to the fact that, since it wasn’t an emergency, he would have to fill out lots of boring forms and bother M for her approval.

 

“Okay, but just for today.”

 

James stopped at a restaurant that was completely out of their way and that just happened to have a table reserved for two in his name. Q asked for water, but James insisted he’d get something to eat as well, nagging until the young man gave in and ordered the most expensive thing in the menu – and shame on James for having planed exactly that, taking the risk of getting water poured over his head while Q walked out of the restaurant.

 

It was a one-sided conversation at first, but eventually Q started to answer some of the questions, relaxing a bit and actually looking like he was enjoying himself. He explained that he had always liked photography and London was beautiful, but he never really had the time to visit it properly despite the fact that he had been born in it.

 

“Do you have anything against me? I mean, we get along most of the times, but sometimes I feel as if you want to smash my head against a desk.” James asked once they got back in the car, heart as small as a flea as he waited for the answer.

 

“You’re the only agent I risk my job for, so you tell me if I have anything against you.” He sighed, looking outside the window. “But do you? Have anything against me, I mean. Do you hate me because I don’t require a hearing aid or because I can keep up with your lame one-liners? Or maybe because I don’t put up with your bullshit and actually punish you when you screw something up?”

 

No, I think I am a day away from submitting an official request to join the secret cult your minions created in your honour and I might actually have a certain feeling for you. “I am sorry, but you can repeat that again, sonny? I couldn’t hear a single thing you were mumbling in whatever new language your generation invented.”

 

Q’s laughter was divine and James wanted to find a way to constantly hear it. And he looked so beautiful when he was laughing, cheeks a bit red, arms wrapped around his stomach. “I think I should have suggested a hearing aid alongside the glasses, James.”

 

Okay, he just found something that sounded better than Q laughing and that was Q calling him James. And he was sure that Q could make that name sound even better, but he should focus on the road and not on the image of the man, naked, shivering in pleasure under him.

 

“You just ran a red light,” Q muttered, turning as much as he could with the seatbelt on. “And I think there was a police camera attached to it.”

 

He pulled out the MI6 issued laptop from his bag and booted up a program, James resting his hands on top of his. “If you’re doing what I think you are, you’ll have to let me treat you to dinner tomorrow as well.”

 

“So you’ll run another one tomorrow and say the same thing?” Q chuckled, typing with his eyes closed. “This is a one-time thing anyway since I am not allowed to help agents outside of their missions.”

 

They managed to reach the optometrist without any further incidents, but the visit to the shop ended with Q stomping out of the store and heading straight for the nearest tube station after shoving his entire wallet in James’ chest to pay for what he had eaten at the restaurant.

 

Q regretted doing that because he couldn’t pay for a ticket and it took James fifteen minutes of driving slowly after him, shouting his apologizes out the window while everybody behind him honked and insulted him to get the young man back in his car. And the only reason he agreed to that was because he really did not want M to see the whole thing on the news.

 

James tried to get him to talk again, but Q pretended not to hear him and when they finally pulled up to his apartment building – which looked run down and was surrounded by all sorts of dubious people that made James want to pick Q up and stick him back into his car – he slammed the door shut after thanking him in the coldest voice possible.

 

“Q, can we please go back to being sort of friends? We were both having fun, admit it,” the agent said, rushing to catch up to him only to find himself surrounded by the shady people who were clearly younger than even Q himself.

                                                               

“You have business with our Andrew?” The one with blue dyed hair asked, cracking his knuckles to make himself look more intimidating.

 

“Don’t even think about it, Bond.” Q intervened, grabbing the agent’s arm before he could knock the kid out. “It’s okay, he’s _that_ co-worker. Bond, don’t you think you insulted me enough for this week?”He looked behind the agent and shook his head, the shady kids quickly moving away from the car, hands tucked behind their backs.

 

Where they actually trying to key his car? Oh, Q was dangerous with how easily he could get people to do whatever he wanted. “I didn’t mean it as an insult. I called them horrible because they keep slipping down your nose and hurt you.” He ran his hand down his face before he could stop himself.

 

“Don’t forgive him that easily, sweetie! Make him grovel for a bit! That fancy car of his tells me that you can get an original Rolex out of this!” A woman yelled from the second floor, Q snapping out from the trance he had entered.

 

“We’re not dating! And even if we did, I’d never have a fight for the sake of expensive make up gifts!” He shouted back, covering the agent’s mouth before he could make a sex joke. “Oh my god, she’ll try to fix me up with her nephew now. At least he’s less annoying than her niece,” he muttered, suddenly moving behind James. “Bobby, I said not to touch the bloody car!”

 

James suddenly realized that Q had lost his posh accent. He held back from pointing that out, watching the young man with amusement as he went to tug on a young man’s ear as he pulled him away from his Aston Martin. He didn’t even notice the old woman that had walked up to him until she rested her hand on his shoulder, gripping it with surprising strength.

 

“I don’t think money will make young Andrew like you, sir,” she whispered. “Don’t try to deny it. I have good eyes despite my age and you have the same look in your eyes my man had whenever he looked at me.”

 

James shrugged, raising his hands up in a defeated manner. “Am I that obvious?” He glanced back at Q, smiling as he watched him scolding everyone. It was nice to see the young man act so carefree, to see him how he really was. He had assumed he wore a mask because of his age, but he was starting to get the impression that he also wore it because of his social status.

 

“Not to him, but then again Andrew always had a hard time noticing anything that didn’t need a plug.” She chuckled, moving to pinch his cheeks.“I take it you’re the James that he constantly tries to impress with his fancy gadgets, but fails?”

 

Q was trying to impress him with his gadgets? He did get the new version of everything before the other agents, but he always thought he was being used as a guinea pig. “He impressed me a long time ago, madam. I’m currently trying to impress him, but I only end up insulting him. Any tips on how not to do that anymore?”

 

“He’s always wanted to visit all the museums in London?” She shrugged. “The boy is simple, but I do know that you shouldn’t treat him like he’s made out of glass. He’s doing whatever he is because he can handle himself and you.” She tapped his hidden weapon lightly, looking at him with a devious smile. “He grew up on the streets, working two jobs to put himself through university as the usual sob story goes. I take you come from old money?”

 

“You did not exaggerate about how good your eyes are, madam.” He felt better with his hand on the gun, the woman reminding him of a couple double agents he had crossed his path in his lifetime.

 

“Bond! What are you doing?” Q hissed, wrapping his arms around him as he pulled him away from the woman, smiling and greeting her. “She babysat me when I was young and she takes care of my cat when I work late.” He yelped when the woman walked past him, _accidentally_ pushing him closer to James.

 

James nodded his thanks, wrapping his arms around Q’s middle. “You are more special than I thought, Quartermaster. Then again, I’d follow you to hell if you ordered me, so I understand why you have everyone on this street wrapped around your little finger.” He released him and stepped back. “Let’s try again. Bond. James Bond.” He extended his hand and Q snorted.

 

“You just love to introduce yourself like that, don’t you?” He shook his hand. “I’m Andrew here. I live on the sixth floor, in apartment 24.You can’t miss it since it’s the only one with the giant, thick metal door. I fixed the elevator yesterday so ignore what’s painted on it.”

 

James felt like he was floating as he went up with the elevator, box clutched tightly to his chest. He was greeted by a rather fat, yellow cat with piercing blue eyes which sank its claws in his leg before disappearing in another room.

 

“Another one of Q’s followers that wants my blood. I am in complete shock,” James grumbled, looking around.

 

The apartment was roughly half the size of his, but had all the things his never did – it felt homey, warm and like a real human being actually lived in it. There were pictures of Q smiling next to people who were undoubtedly his friends despite the ridiculous uniforms he wore. It was also filled with worn-out books and various computer parts, the little table in front of the dark brown sofa covered in all sort of papers which had Q’s handwriting on them.

 

“I’ll be with you in a moment. Just put it on the sofa and grab a soda from the fridge if you want something to drink,” Q’s voice came from what James assumed to be his bathroom, the young man walking out five minutes later with his hair slightly wet,dressed in a pair of short pants and an oversized black t-shirt.

 

He couldn’t get his eyes off of Q, watching him like he was prey as he shuffled around the living room, picking up different papers and disappearing with them in the bedroom. It wasn’t just that the young man looked extremely appealing like that; it relaxed the agent, made him think about doing his best to finish a mission without being riddled with bullets so he could come back home to a scene like this.

 

But yes, those pants were a sin on Q and the shirt kept slipping down on of his shoulders, revealing skin which James wanted to cover in kisses and bite marks. His fantasy stopped the second his eyes landed on Q’s bruises, his feelings of remorse coming back with a vengeance.

 

“Do I have something on my shoulder?” Q asked, frowning.

 

“Bruises. I’m so—“   


“Careful, you might explode if you say that and actually meaning it,” Q teased, sitting down on the sofa next to the agent, patting his leg. “You’re still getting those glasses and if you buy me a pair as well, I will make you eat them.”

 

They ended up talking about their respective childhoods well into the night, Q poking his head out the window every now and then when he someone called him, asking him about the car and if the owner was committed or not – though one person said they didn’t care if they were since the presence of a significant other just added excitement to the relationship.

 

“You’ll find everybody’s phone numbers stuck under you wipers when you leave,” Q said, yawning. “I suggest taking the tube the next time you drop by.”

 

He did want to ask if he’d find Q’s personal number stuffed in there, but he was distracted by the possibility of returning in the cosy apartment a second time. “My darling Quartermaster, is this your way of telling me I can come again?”

 

Q almost managed to supress his blush. “Tease me about it and you’ll never see a green light for as long as you are a driver outside of an important mission.” He yawned again, letting go of the cat to rub his eyes and that was James’ cue to leave so he bid his goodnight, hugged the man and left with a big grin on his face.

 

Three months later, James presence at Q’s apartment was so normal that the agent actually had a duffle bag with change of clothes as well as his own cup in the kitchen and toothbrush in the bathroom.

 

Their co-workers instantly noticed that the relationship between the two men had changed for the better. Then again, one would have to be blind and deaf to miss their little private jokes while on the coms, the fact that James took extra care during his missions to return unscathed or how their faces light up whenever they were in the same room.

 

The whole world disappeared when they had lunches together, Even and Bill sometimes ending up feeling like they were third wheels. And if Q brought sandwiches, James completely ignored the ordered food in favour of them, looking like he was eating a piece of heaven – Eve had to admit that they were good, but she suspected the agent loved them only because Q made them for him.

 

James even tagged along Q’s sightseeing trips around London on his days off, patiently holding the young man’s bag while he took pictures of everything he found interesting, researching whatever they were supposed to visit beforehand just so Q wouldn’t be the only one talking.

 

The agent also found out that the reason Q constantly struggled with money was partially because he was paying for everything in the apartment building to be updated as well as having his pay check cut in half whenever he ignored protocols in order save James’ ass and bring him back in the UK in once piece.

 

That led to a fight between him and M because when he was informed that there was nothing she could do about that – the prime minister breathing down her neck whenever Q was involved due to his once job as an international hacker –which ended in the quartermaster threatening to never talk to him if he didn’t apologize to her and started to act like a mature adult.

 

“I simply need to prove to him that I’m not going to go rogue.”

 

“I can totally understand why Eve slapped me when I joked that you might turn traitor,” he grumbled, crossing his hands over his chest, regretting that Alec wasn’t done with his mission just yet so the two of them could put their heads together and teach the Prime Minister a lesson that wouldn’t brand them as traitors.

 

Q rolled his eyes, pushing a cold beer against the man’s neck. “Well, since you started to behave, I also started to get paid in full so everything is okay.” He checked his watch, clicking his tongue. “I have to go to bed early today. If you’re sleeping here again, your pillow and blanket are at the foot of my bed. Try not to step on the cat’s tail this time.”

 

“I did not step on it last time! That fur ball hates me.”

 

“Good night, James,” Q sing sang, patting the man’s head and disappearing in his room.

 

While Q’s minions had warmed up to him after realizing that he wasn’t in it just to add a quartermaster shaped notch in his bedpost and that he would never _willingly_ hurt their beloved overlord, Q’s cat continued to hate him. It sank its teeth and claws in whatever part of the agent’s body he could reach when Q’s back was turned, mewling like all hell broke loose whenever James was close to its tail and plopped between them if the agent got too close to _his_ human.

 

“If you wake him up again, I’ll turn you into a fur coat,” James threatened and he could swear on his car that the bloody cat smirked at him right before a pillow hit him in the face. It smelled like Q’s shampoo, so he didn’t care that the beast scratched his leg before running to take cover in his master’s bedroom.

 

***

 

The Quartermaster usually had a normal schedule, as long as high risk missions weren’t being ran. Plus, unless his presence was really necessary, Q delegated people to delivery equipment overseas – that also being his way of sending his minions in the countries they had always wanted to visit.

 

006’s mission had been an important one, starting while Major Boothroyd was still alive and not being discovered during the whole Silva debacle only because the old man had instructed Q – who was R back then – to move every bit of information MI6 had on Alec as one of their agents on a flash drive and then delete everything in their system.

 

So when the agent finally finished his mission, young Q ended up spending a whole week at MI6 to ensure that 006’s extraction went without a hitch, eating, showering and sleeping there. James provided the food and the new set of clothes with Eve and Tanner helping M find enough funds to buy a sofa that didn’t ruin the young Quartermaster’s back.

 

When Alec was in a plane on his way back to the U.K, Q called it a day. He didn’t have to be present for the agent to check his gadgets in and since all the information he was extracting was being instantly sent to MI6 and checked by programs Q invented, the Quartermaster was free to go home.

 

“Agent Trevelyan should arrive tomorrow at 6 AM, but Major Boothroyd told me he has a habit of popping up when he’s least expected,” Q muttered as James carefully packed him in his car.

 

James was more than happy to start sharing tales of their missions together, Q struggling to stay awake and hear them all, only to end up with his head against the car’s window, snoring slightly not ten minutes later.

 

“Well, I guess it’s best to let the bastard tell his parts of the missions anyway. He likes to add sounds effects.” He ran the back of his hand down Q’s face, smiling softly when he heard him mutter his name. Alec was going to love Q almost as much as he did, James was sure of it. He had wanted to tell him about Q, but he feared exposing the young quartermaster to even more danger in case Alec was caught and their conversations discovered so he kept quiet.

 

He didn’t have the heart to wake him up when they finally reached home, so he had to put up with the knowing looks of all of Q’s neighbours, the teenagers that thought themselves tough glaring at him the hardest – and the only reason why they didn’t shake Q awake was the old woman with the good eyes who reminded them all that Andrew had been working nonstop for a full week.  

 

After taking Q’s shoes and pants off, James tucked him in his bed, running his hand through his soft hair. He was so tempted to steal a kiss, but he wanted Q to be awake and kiss back – that or kick him out of the apartment and demand a restraining order. He obviously preferred the former.

 

The agent dozed off in front of the television with the cat purring on his chest since even the animal understood just how much his human needed rest, jolting awake the second he head a light tap against the front door.

 

His weapon was in his hands in an instant, pulling the door open and throwing himself at the would-be intruder, pushing the gun in his beck. “You must be suicidal to—Alec?” Okay, this was getting ridiculous, but at least no one could accuse him of have bad eyes because there had been a door between him and the other agent.

 

“Hell of a way to greet and old friend, James.” He kicked him in the stomach as hard as he could and sent him crashing back into the apartment. “Then again, I missed sparring with you too. Wow this place isn’t your style at all.”

 

James tripped him and jumped on him, covering his mouth. “Lower your voice before you manage to wake up my Q,” James hissed, both men turning their heads in the direction of the bedroom when they heard the bed creak.

 

“James? Is everything okay? Did you trip on the cat again?” Q asked in a sleepy voice, rubbing his eyes and scratching his stomach. “Oh, agent Trevelyan; please excuse me I was under the impression that I was somewhere else. England and MI6 welcomes you back in their safe arms. R, please bring the tray so the agent can check his gadgets in.”

 

Alec moved a bit faster than James, wrapping his arms around Q and lifting him in the air, twirling him around. “I’d recognize that posh voice anywhere! You’re my new Quartermaster! And my, are you new.” He dropped the man in James’ arms, patting his friend’s back. “James, you old dog; jumping on him so quickly. Admit it: you were afraid I’d steal him right out from under your nose.”

 

But both men ignored him, James ruffling Q’s hair while he looked completely lost. “Don’t worry, you are home. Alec popped in uninvited, as he usually does.”

 

“Thank God. I was afraid I had stripped to my underwear in the middle of my branch.” He smiled at James, thanking him silently for bringing him home before turning his attention to the other double oh. “Agent, since you just returned from a mission, you can take my bed while James stays on the sofa and I take the bathtub.”

 

“No!” Both agents shouted, Q jumping back, more awake now than before.

 

“I mean, I can kip on the sofa and you and James can go back to your bedroom. I slept in worse place and there is no reason why my presence here has to ruin your night.” Sometimes Alec was so dense that he couldn’t catch a hint if it came in the shape of a baseball so it really didn’t matter that James was elbowing him to get him to shut up. “If Eve would have told me James was busy with his lover, I wouldn’t have come.”

 

Q blinked a couple of times, looking between the two men. “Busy with his lover?” He tilted his head to the side a bit, face getting that wonderful red tint James enjoyed. “We are not dating.”

 

James did not like the look Alec got on his face. He knew that look all too well. It was the one he had whenever a stupid idea entered his mind. “Oh, James tends to be smarter than this but then I guess it’s perfectly okay if I ask you out to dinner tonight? I mean, I don’t usually see my lovers in their underwear first and then in a restaurant, but this could work.”

 

James blocked Alec’s sight before the man could finish talking, moving his hands behind his back to wrap them around Q. “I was actually planning on taking Q out to his favourite restaurant where I wanted to introduce him to you.” Eve didn’t tell him anything his ass! Alec knew everything and he was trying to push his hand.

 

“And even if that wasn’t the case,” Q poked James in the back to get his attention, “by the way, you’ll have to rethink that since I will be busy reviewing the state of the gadgets and checking his report alongside M,” he turned his eyes back to Alec, “I would still turn you down because I am interested in someone else.”

 

James turned around to look Q in the eyes, feeling like his heart just got crushed. “Is it someone I know?”  


“You know everybody I know at this point, James, so yes it’s someone you know.”

 

James’ mind was running a mile a second, trying to go over the entire list and pinpoint the people who opening hit on Q. “Is it Mrs Harrow’s nephew? I thought you said you wanted to use him as a moving target the last time you got stuck in the elevator with him. Wait; is it the delivery boy who always brings you an extra order of Kung Pao chicken?”

 

“I had a rough start with this guy and he gets on my nerves every now and then, but he’s definitely not Mrs Harrow’s nephew.” Q was looking at him as if asking how it was possible that he was a spy if he hadn’t figured out by then. “And he brings me food, yes, but he’s not a delivery boy.”

 

“Tanner? But he’s married! He has two kids!” He turned to look at Alec, not understanding why the man was laughing.

 

Q huffed and hit his shoulder, stomping to his room. “The guy I like is a complete idiot who better start wearing those glasses when he’s our bloody apartment as well! I’m going back to bed. You two can share the sofa since it extends. Good night Alec, 007.”

 

When the door slammed shut, James brain started to work again. “Wait, I’m…Q? Q, you cannot say that and then start calling me by my designated number again. Q? Open the door please?”

 

Alec cleared his throat, pointing at the door knob when James turned to glare at him. “You know he didn’t lock it so you could—” His friend disappeared instantly. “Right then, I’ll take the sofa and pretend I am not here.”

 

Inside the bedroom, James was trying to wrestle the covers off of Q’s head, the young man insisting that he was sleeping while weakly kicking the agent in the stomach. “This is my favourite one, Bond! If you rip it, I’ll kick you out of my bloody apartment.”

 

“Then stop being stubborn and look at me when we’re having this conversation.”

 

“Fine.” Q said shortly, releasing the covers and letting James hit against the door. “I am interested in you. You can now let me know that I do not have the right gender, marital status, looks or whatever and let’s pretend this whole thing was nothing more than a nightmare.”

 

“Well, that has to be the stupidest thing you ever said, Andrew. Maybe we should have this conversation after you get some well-deserved rest, love.” He leaned over and gave him a kiss that was supposed to be quick but James forgot himself the moment Q parted his lips.

 

The kiss turned from passionate to hungry and Q tried to pull James in bed over him, both of them somehow managing to roll out of it, falling on the ground. “Okay, I might need a bigger bed. It never actually saw this type of action,” Q admitted, letting James help him up.

 

An awkward cough came from the other room and James started to regret that he did not pull the trigger. “Might I also suggest also going for thicker walls and doors? I don’t think James would let me live if I hear him pop your—OUCH! Something bit me!” Alec shout was followed by a low hiss. “Q, don’t panic, but I think you have a demon in your house that looks like a cat.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are love <3


End file.
